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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 13. THE BLACK RIVER
The part of the earth covered by water is estimated at over eighty million acres.
This fluid mass contains two billion two hundred and fifty million cubic miles.
It forms a spherical body with a diameter of sixty leagues.
Its weight would be three quintillions of tons.
To understand these numbers, you need to know that a quintillion is to a billion as a billion is to one.
In other words, there are as many billions in a quintillion as there are ones in a billion.
This mass of water is equal to the amount that all the rivers on earth would discharge in forty thousand years.
During the geological ages, the fiery period followed the watery one.
The ocean originally covered everything, then slowly, in the Silurian period, the tops of mountains began to appear.
Islands rose up, then disappeared in partial floods, reappeared, became stable, and formed continents.
Finally the earth became arranged geographically as we see it today.
The solid land had taken from the water thirty-seven million six hundred and fifty-seven square miles.
That equals twelve billion nine hundred and sixty million acres.
The shape of the continents allows us to divide the waters into five great parts.
They are the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the Antarctic or Frozen Ocean, the Indian, the Atlantic, and the Pacific Oceans.
The Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between the two polar circles.
From east to west, it stretches between Asia and America over 145 degrees of longitude.
It's the quietest of seas, its currents are broad and slow.
It has medium tides and abundant rain.
That was the ocean my fate destined me to travel across first under these strange conditions.
"Sir," said Captain Nemo.
"We'll, if you please, take our bearings and fix the starting point of this voyage. It's a quarter to twelve. I'll go up again to the surface."
The Captain pressed an electric clock three times.
The pumps began to drive the water from the tanks.
The needle of the manometer showed a different pressure as the Nautilus rose, then it stopped.
"We have arrived," said the Captain.
I went to the central staircase that opened onto the platform.
I climbed the iron steps and found myself on the upper part of the Nautilus.
The platform was only three feet out of the water.
The front and back of the Nautilus had that spindle shape that made people compare it to a cigar.
I noticed that its iron plates, slightly overlapping each other, looked like the shell that covers the bodies of our large land reptiles.
That explained to me how natural it was that, despite all the glasses, people took this boat for a marine animal.
Toward the middle of the platform, the long boat, half buried in the hull, formed a small bump.
At the front and back rose two cages of medium height with slanted sides.
They were partly closed by thick lens-shaped glasses.
One was for the steersman who directed the Nautilus.
The other held a bright lantern to give light on the path.
The sea was beautiful, the sky was pure.
The long vehicle could barely feel the wide waves of the ocean.
A light breeze from the east rippled the surface of the water.
The horizon, free from fog, made observation easy.
Nothing was in sight, Not a sandbank, Not an island, a vast desert.
Captain Nemo, using his sextant, took the height of the sun.
That should also give the latitude, he waited for a few moments until its disc touched the horizon.
While he took his measurements, not a muscle moved.
The instrument couldn't have been more still in a hand of marble.
"Twelve o'clock, sir," he said.
"When you like."
I took one last look at the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese coast, and went down to the saloon.
"And now, sir, I leave you to your studies," added the Captain.
"Our course is east-northeast."
"Our depth is twenty-six fathoms."
"Here are large-scale maps that you can use to follow it."
"The saloon is at your disposal."
"With your permission, I'll retire." Captain Nemo bowed, and I remained alone, lost in thoughts all about the commander of the Nautilus.
For a whole hour I was deep in these reflections, trying to pierce this mystery that interested me so much.
Then my eyes fell on the large map spread on the table.
I placed my finger on the exact spot where the given latitude and longitude crossed.
The sea has its large rivers, like the continents.
They're special currents known by their temperature and their color.
The most remarkable of these is called the Gulf Stream.
Science has decided the direction of five main currents on the globe.
One is in the North Atlantic, a second is in the South Atlantic.
A third is in the North Pacific.
A fourth is in the South Pacific.
And a fifth is in the Southern Indian Ocean.
It's probable a sixth current existed in the Northern Indian Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas formed a vast sheet of water.
At this point on the map, one of these currents was flowing.
It was the Kuro-Scivo of the Japanese, the Black River.
It leaves the Gulf of Bengal, where it's warmed by the direct rays of a tropical sun.
It crosses the Straits of Malacca along the coast of Asia.
It turns into the North Pacific toward the Aleutian Islands.
It carries trunks of camphor trees and other native plants.
It edges the ocean waves with the pure indigo of its warm water.
The Nautilus was going to follow this current.
I followed it with my eye, I saw it lose itself in the vastness of the Pacific.
I felt myself drawn with it when Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the door of the saloon.
My two brave companions stood frozen at the sight of the wonders spread before them.
"Where are we? Where are we?" shouted the Canadian.
"In the museum at Quebec?"
"My friends," I answered, making a sign for them to enter, "you aren't in Canada. You're on board the Nautilus, fifty yards below the level of the sea."
"But, Mr. Aronnax," said Ned Land, "can you tell me how many men there are on board? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?"
"I can't answer you, Mr. Land, and it's better for now to give up any idea of seizing the Nautilus or escaping from it."
"This ship is a masterpiece of modern industry, and I'd be sorry not to have seen it."
"Many people would accept the situation forced on us just to move among such wonders, so be quiet and let's try to see what's around us".
"See!" shouted the harpooner.
"But we can't see anything in this iron prison! We're walking. We're sailing. Blindly."
Ned Land had barely said these words when everything suddenly went dark.
The luminous ceiling was gone, it happened so fast that my eyes felt a painful shock.
We stayed silent, not moving, not knowing what surprise awaited us, whether pleasant or unpleasant.
A sliding noise was heard, You'd have said that panels were moving on the sides of the Nautilus.
"This is the end of the end!" said Ned Land.
Suddenly light broke on each side of the saloon through two long openings.
The liquid mass appeared brightly lit by the electric glow.
Two crystal plates separated us from the sea.
At first I trembled at the thought that this weak partition might break.
But strong bands of copper held them, giving almost infinite resistance.
The sea was clearly visible for a mile all around the Nautilus.
What a sight! What pen can describe it?
Who could paint the effects of the light through those transparent sheets of water?
Who could show the softness of the gradual changes from the lower to the upper layers of the ocean?
We know the transparency of the sea.
Its clearness is far beyond that of rock water.
The mineral and organic substances it holds in suspension increase its transparency.
In certain parts of the ocean near the Antilles, under seventy-five fathoms of water, you can see a bed of sand with surprising clearness.
The power of the sun's rays doesn't seem to stop at a depth of one hundred and fifty fathoms.
But in this middle fluid that the Nautilus traveled through, the electric brightness was produced even in the heart of the waves.
It was no longer luminous water, it was liquid light.
On each side, a window opened into this unexplored deep.
The darkness of the saloon made the brightness outside stand out.
We looked out as if this pure crystal was the glass of an enormous aquarium.
"You wanted to see, friend Ned. Well, now you see."
"Curious! Curious!" muttered the Canadian.
He seemed to forget his bad mood and submit to some irresistible attraction.
"And you'd come further than this to admire such a sight!"
"Ah!" I thought to myself.
"I understand this man's life. He's made a world apart for himself, where he treasures all his greatest wonders."
For two whole hours, an aquatic army escorted the Nautilus.
During their games and their leaps, while they competed in beauty, brightness, and speed, I recognized the green labre.
I saw the banded mullet, marked by a double line of black.
I saw the round-tailed goby, white with violet spots on its back.
I saw the Japanese scombrus, a beautiful mackerel of those seas with a blue body and a silvery head.
I saw the brilliant azurors, whose name alone defies description.
I saw some banded spares with mixed fins of blue and yellow.
I saw the woodcocks of the seas, some of which reach a yard in length.
I saw Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys, and serpents six feet long with small, lively eyes and huge mouths full of teeth.
I saw many other species, their colors, shapes, and movements endlessly varied.
Our imagination stayed at its highest point.
Exclamations followed quickly one after another, Ned named the fish, and Conseil classified them.
I was in ecstasy at the liveliness of their movements and the beauty of their forms.
I had never been given the chance to surprise these animals alive and free in their natural element.
I won't mention all the varieties that passed before my dazzled eyes, all the collection of the seas of China and Japan.
These fish, more numerous than the birds of the air, came, no doubt attracted by the bright focus of the electric light.
Suddenly there was daylight in the saloon.
The iron panels closed again, the enchanting vision disappeared.
But I dreamed on for a long time until my eyes fell on the instruments hanging on the wall.
The compass still showed the course as north-northeast.
The manometer showed a pressure of five atmospheres, equal to a depth of twenty-five fathoms.
The electric log gave a speed of fifteen miles an hour.
I expected Captain Nemo, but he didn't appear.
The clock marked the hour of five.
Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin.
I retired to my room, My dinner was ready.
It was made of turtle soup from the most delicate hawksbills.
There was a surmullet served with puff pastry, whose liver, prepared by itself, was most delicious.
There were also fillets of the emperor-holocanthus, whose taste seemed to me even better than salmon.
I spent the evening reading, writing, and thinking, then sleep overcame me.
I stretched out on my couch of zostera and slept deeply while the Nautilus glided rapidly through the current of the Black River.